


It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Verse

by BladeAchilles



Category: Agents of Cracked, Arrested Development, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 17:05:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BladeAchilles/pseuds/BladeAchilles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of various crossovers with Supernatural, plus a bonus fusion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Birds of a feather-Agents of Cracked

**Author's Note:**

> There are some fics that can take two different universes and meld them together with exquisite grace, weaving characters and settings together with a deft and talented hand. This is not that fic. This is the result of my mind wandering at work and was madly typed up without a beta or common sense.

The first time that Sarge met John was in the middle of a jungle. He didn’t know why Command was always saddling him with these green recruits, but he’d be fucked if he didn’t at least try and educate the boy (lesson one: always look out for the retard of the group). It’s frustrating as hell to put all this effort into a new private just to have them get blown up and have to start again, but no-one could ever accuse Sarge of not doing his job (okay, it was also always fun to show the new kid what was under his eye patch during his talk on Why Redundancy Is Bad). So he did his best-tried to show the kid a couple of things about fighting Charlie, tried to get it through his head that ‘Nam was nothing like Nebraska or Kansas or wherever the fuck the kid came from, and that meant that he had to man up and embrace the chaos and the never ending tension and to always, always be ready for something to come leaping out of the darkness and try to kill him.

None of that worked, though. Oh, the kid survived; even made Corporal, but he never lost that dumbass childish grin. Sarge would be in the middle of trying to explain to Winchester the different ways that you could kill a man with a fork, and the boy would just stare dreamily at the picture of some blonde broad that he always carried with him. So, when they parted ways and the kid went home to be a mechanic, Sarge chalked him up as your standard soft civilian and, for the most part, forgot about him.  

 

 

The second time that Sarge met Winchester was years later, at a dive in some forgettable little town. They were both just passing through-Sarge because he never could stay in one place for long, and John said he was travelling for work. The instant that he saw John sitting at the bar Sarge knew that something had changed. He didn’t know what had happened, but whatever it was had accomplished something that all those bloody rainy nights in Vietnam never could- John finally understood The War. The same violent, unceasing battle that coursed through Sarge’s veins saw its counterpoint in the eyes of John Winchester, and he grinned in welcome.

All that night, as they traded drinks and reminisced, Sarge reveled in that sense of sheer fucking _pleasure_ that like has for like. As the night started to grow old, and John started to talk about how he had left his sons (Sarge was never going to have children-look what happened with the Chief’s son for fucks sake) with a friend because his job in this shithole could get a little dangerous, Sarge knew exactly how this night was going to turn out, and his blood was practically _singing_ with joy. After they had tracked down a couple of guys with too many teeth and hacked them to pieces in a dark alley (John was kind enough to offer Sarge a machete, but he always kept one on him for just such cases), after they had fallen into bed at a rundown motel for another sort of fight, filled with blood and sweat and teeth and nails and cumming, Sarge lit a cigar and thought that maybe he should spare a moment of regret for the sweet young wide-eyed boy that he had known. But The War had consumed Sarge, it would never leave him, and here’s the thing about misery-it loves company, and all that.  

    


	2. Bad Day at Newport Beach

Sam and Dean were having a bad day.

Sure, some down time in California had _sounded_ nice, but what had actually happened was they ran into some local police who A) recognized them from the many Most Wanted lists they had landed on, and B) were some very angry vampires. “This is why we don’t do vacations!” Dean growled as he and Sam frantically packed.

“Dude, whatever, can we just get out of here before they figure out where we are?” Sam said as he retrieved a shoe from under the bed.

 

Gabriel was having a bad day.

            However, since that consisted of being really, really, excruciatingly bored, that meant that soon someone else was going to have a bad day. He toyed with the idea of assuming the shape of the Loch Ness Monster and chasing luxury yachts around, but he was supposed to be keeping a low profile, what with pretty much everyone but Kali thinking he was dead. The last thing he needed was, say, the Winchesters tracking him down and asking awkward questions. Not that he didn’t enjoy having them around to mess with, but he didn’t want to get dragged into whatever their latest quest was. Although…… that didn’t mean that he couldn’t still, say, send them a little gift! Just a little something to brighten their day, sitting around in that dreary motel in…..ah, yes, California. He reached for the phone and smiled. Sometimes, he was just so thoughtful.

 

Gob Bluth was having a bad day.

            There he was, going about his perfectly respectful male stripper business, about to blow the minds of some poor lonely guys (who were too embarrassed to call the order in themselves) with his tasteful routine done to The Final Countdown, when he got shot at! It was enough to make him consider quitting the business entirely. Obviously, he was never meant for that job-he was far too good at it and that intimidated people. From now on, he was going to concentrate solely on his magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will forever by my head-canon.


End file.
